i love teaching high school actors.
together, they are a group of inherently cool people. and in every group of students there is at least one, often two or three, of the following:
– the chic i wish was my friend
– the dorky boy who will grow up to change the world
– the political activist who has done more in 15 years than i have in 30
– the forgotten child who fell into acting by chance and it has changed her world
– the one i want to party with
– the gay boy who doesn’t know it yet, or does but doesn’t announce it
– the gay boy who boldly announces it
– the movie starlet
– the shy one with a big soul and a louder voice (when she or he finally uses it)
– the one who gives me hugs
– the one who writes me such a beautiful thank you card that it makes me cry
– the unexpected jock
– the one who gets the least attention because she works the hardest and goes so far and needs only the smallest of nudges from me. and, in the end, she reveals herself to have talent far beyond what i expected.
– the one i cannot budge. he is seemingly talentless. until, one day, something miraculous happens. i never know what it is. but it happens. and then he is a changed child. perhaps he is even a changed man. and i wonder if i made a difference in his world, or if he did it all on his own after all.
they all make my heart soar.
due to creations like facebook, i get to see many of their shiny faces pretty much every day. i respect the boundaries of children and adults. i rarely look at their ‘party’ photos. it’s none of my business. but i love seeing them fly.
and, sometimes, i’m blessed with things like seeing two of them seriously lip-sync to the most absurd video ever.
it was pure silly high school. and i told them so. i told them i missed high school.
they responded by posting a video to my wall that made me laugh so hard that i cried. four of them stared into the camera at me while the aural melodrama of Electra played in the background: screams of horror and mourning co-mingled with these very serious young faces trying very hard not to laugh at the silliness of their own ingenuity.
and it reminded me that my life is more than just feeling ill and learning to love my child. my life is full of all these young souls that i love to work with.
all of these young souls blossoming with art.
all of these young souls with the minds and bodies of grown-ups but with a toddler’s ability to create and enjoy the most ridiculous pieces of art. and life.
this is to you, kids.
thanks for being in my life.
may your years continue to delight you.